When I Bled Out Calling Your Name You Chose Her Party

A damp chill clung to the Seattle air, the kind that seeps into your bones on a rainy night.

Just a week before my due date, a dark SUV materialized from the rain and slammed into me. The impact shattered my world. My water broke instantly, and I lay bleeding out on the wet pavement.

Before I lost consciousness, I called my husband, Chase Pierce, begging him to come quickly, to save our unborn daughter.

But his voice was ice. "What is this, another one of your stunts? Are you that desperate to ruin her big night?"

A moment later, I heard my son, Owen Pierce, shout over the phone, "You're always so dramatic, Mom! I hate it when you're like this!"

Chase ordered me to take a cab to the party alone, immediately. Then, he hung up.

The pool of blood beneath me blossomed in the rain as darkness swallowed me whole.

When I opened my eyes again, the doctor delivered the cruel news. "I'm so sorry. If you had gotten to the hospital just a little sooner, we might have been able to save the baby's life…"

I stared blankly at the ceiling, a hollow space where my heart used to be. It had died with my daughter.

I finally decided to leave them.

But now, they're the ones begging me to stay.

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1

At ten o'clock that night, Chase and our son, Owen, returned home. He pushed open the door to find the house shrouded in darkness.

He frowned, flicked on the lights, and demanded, "Chloe, you couldn't even order us a pizza?"

Before I could answer, he added, "Go warm up a glass of milk for Owen, and then make me a coffee."

He didn't know I'd been rushed into emergency surgery, that I was lying unconscious on an operating table, my body broken and my clothes soaked in blood.

He and Owen waited, but my usual swift compliance never came. A wave of irritation washed over him.

Owen called out toward my room, "Mom, where are you? I want some milk."

Hearing no reply, Chase's brow furrowed. He strode toward my room and snapped, "Have you lost your mind? Playing hide-and-seek? You're nine months pregnant, Chloe!"

He shoved open the door to my room, finding it just as dark. He flicked on the light, his eyes scanning the empty space. When he saw I was gone, his expression hardened.

He took out his phone and sent me a voice message. "Enough with the drama, Chloe. Stop using this baby to manipulate me. You need to get on Instagram and apologize to Blair right now. If you do, maybe I'll consider forgiving you."

Little did he know, I was lying on the operating table at that very moment. I faintly heard the notification chime from my phone but was powerless to reach it.

After waiting over ten minutes for my reply, he took Owen next door to my parents' house.

"Chloe isn't home. And she's not answering any of my messages, Caroline."

Hearing this, my mother, Caroline Donovan, frowned. "Chloe's been impossible ever since she got pregnant! It's our fault for spoiling her so much as a child."

Just then, my sister, Blair Donovan, turned to our parents with a look of remorse.

"Chloe must be upset that I scheduled my launch party a week before her due date. That's why she's not home. I'll call her right now and apologize, convince her to come back so you and Chase can stop worrying, Mom."

With that, Blair immediately pulled out her phone.

Caroline gazed at Blair, her expression softening with sympathy, an emotion both Chase and Owen mirrored.

Caroline reached out and gently patted Blair's back. "You're always so thoughtful, Blair—not like Chloe. She doesn't act like an older sister at all."

Chase chimed in sympathetically, "You did nothing wrong, Blair. You don't need to apologize to her. Chloe's hormones are clearly out of whack from the pregnancy. I'm sure she'll show up by her due date."

At Chase's words, Blair's fingers paused over her phone.

Owen buried his head in her arms, announcing in his soft, sweet voice, "You don't have to worry about Mom, Aunt Blair. Mom's just trying to scare Dad using the baby. She needs a time-out!"

A flicker of disgust crossed Blair's face as Owen hugged her, but she quickly smoothed it over, her expression a mask of troubled concern. "Alright, then. If you all think it's for the best..."

Together, they spent a quiet, cozy evening, completely oblivious to the fact that I was fighting for my life.